The Highway Pig

"And what do you call this area of town?"

Ron's question distracted her from the pale house light she was focused on. She looked at the side of his face, thinking of a lie.

"Um...." Ron drove by the house, and she panicked as if it indeed was her home, "Hey, you passed it. If you let me out here, I can walk there."

"Can't do that."

"But. Sir, my-"

"You're a liar."

"No, sir. I am not."

"Cut that shit. I know a liar when I see one. I could spot a walking whore from a mile away."

"Excuse me? I..." Ornella wrapped her head around his words. Did he call her a whore?

"Sir, I think we have a misunderstanding."

"We damn sure do. I can't believe you would go on lying to a man who saved your life. I judged you right, I guess. Just as disrespectful as I thought."

Ornella's soft voice started to weaken in a meek explanation, "I'm sorry. And, I thank you so much for saving my life and for this ride, but-"

"But. But. But. There's always a but in front of a lie." Ron cracked up and popped the top on another beer.

"I'm sure you wouldn't want me as a burden, sir."

"You're a runway, eh?" Ron asked, but Ornella remained quiet, giving him the answer.

"It's hard to fool a man like me. I'm smart. And your accent is too...." Ron chuckled, digging for another beer, "Too prissy to be from around these parts. I've seen the trash that walks up and down these backroads. Here," Ron handed her a cold one and smiled, "We are in for a long ride. Might as well join me."

"Sir. It would be best if you let me out," an intense panic set in, and Ornella slid her body toward the door.

Ron remained silent, and a nervous tension filled the small car and tossed around her head, "Sir. Could you stop and let me out?"

"Cheer up. Be happy. I sure as hell am. I got me a new riding partner."

Sitting straight, she added assertiveness to her voice, "My parents will worry about me... Because. Um, well, because they know I was out walking. They will send someone to find me. I know you are trying to be helpful... But."

"Aye, there's that but. Quit with that bullshit. Drink your beer. I know you're thirsty, girl. We've been riding all afternoon."

With a low sigh of worry, she flipped her hair around her face. She didn't want to see this crude man any longer and let her eyes wander to the window as the car zoomed past more well-lit houses.

Ron shook the beer in her lap, "Drink it. Let loose, little lady. You're as stiff as a board. I can't have a dull co-captain."

"I don't drink alcohol," Ornella mumbled, folding her arms.

Ron reached over and flipped her pouty lips. She frowned but was too timid to stop him. As his fingers rounded her sculpted chin, he smiled, keeping his other hand haphazardly on the wheel.

"Look at that face."

"Sir?" Ornella slowly inched back from his hold.

His arms and fingers were darker than his face, with thick patches of dark hair covering his arms and thick knuckles. His finger merged between her lips and lingered there.

"Mm."

"See," Ron chuckled, revealing his finger, "Your mouth is dry. You need water."

"I thank you, but-"

"Damnit!" Ron yelled, slamming on the breaks and adding to his fearful shout, which prompted Ornella to pop the can.

He looked toward her with a stern scowl that reminded her of a wild man she had once seen in a horror film.

"I'm sorry, sir."

Holding his head in grief, Ron chuckled, "I see now you need someone to take care of you, girl. You are so childish."

"I am an adult, sir."

"Spare me. You walk the streets alone and almost get run over by a truck. Now you want to sit there and die of dehydration. You're not dying in this car, little lady. I've seen enough death to last me a lifetime."

Glancing down, she took a sip of the golden bitter liquid, choking on the fizz. Ornella felt responsible for his outburst and wanted to make the man who saved her life happy.

"There you go. It's good, ain't it?"

She shrugged, taking the can back to her full lips, "I don't like it. But."

"But what?" Ron groaned in frustration.

Ornella covered her mouth and gave a small belch, "I don't want to die on your watch, sir. I understand now you are only thinking of my best interests."

"Damn sure am, go on. Finish it up."

Ron examined her distorted features as she continued to gulp the rest of the beer.

Shaking off the taste, Ornella swiped her pink tongue across her thick brims. The drops of liquid dotted her lips, falling on her soft chin.

"Here, drink another." Ron shifted to hide his throbbing erection and turned the car into the road.

"Your first beer, eh? You're a grown woman now."

Ornella chuckled lightly, taking a sip of the new can in her hands. It was cold and bitter, but she had indeed been thirsty. Gulping down the rest, Ornella soon found pleasure in quenching her thirst. She tried to shake off the warming sensation, knowing she shouldn't be inebriated with a man like this, no matter how helpful he had been.

"How old did you say you were, again?"

"20," Ornella lied, keeping her eyes on the opened can.

"Full of lies. A lying little lady is what you are."

"I'm not lying," Ornella whispered another lie.

"Go on, keep them coming. I like a good story," Ron grinned, pressing the pedal harder; he zoomed past a car up ahead.

Ornella gasped and reached for the middle gap, but her hand landed on his. Ron smiled, taking her hand to hold it, "Soft skin. What lotion do you use, or are you so young your skin has yet to dry up."

Ornella avoided his question, quickly bringing her hand back to her lap. But Ron caught it, holding it tight in false reassurance, "Does my driving scare you, girl?

"No, sir. I..."

"It's alright. You're safe with me," Ron swiped his thumb across her smooth knuckles, "You've been wanting to touch me, huh?"

"I...um," Ornella whispered, growing increasingly icky of his rough trace.

"It's quite alright. I haven't held a hand in a while. You can touch all you want."

Ron pulled her hand toward his thigh, resting it there, "I need both hands for the wheel. So you can settle your hand right there."

Ornella felt it inappropriate for her hand to be on his thigh, but she wasn't sure how to refuse him, so she kept it there.

"Go on, rub it."

Gradually, she rotated her hand up his knee, settling away from his crotch.

"That tickles," Ron laughed and swung the car around another.

Ron shifted up, and Ornella's hand slipped further to his crotch. She quickly removed her hand, set it in her lap, and gulped the bitter liquid.

Ron slipped his hand to her thigh, and she flinched, "Sir, um."

"Aye, don't be shy. You got your feel. It's only right I get mine."

Lightheaded, Ornella nodded as Ron's thick fingers roamed up her thigh and down to her small kneecap.

"Just as soft as silk, you are," Ron grinned, "Is everything as soft as this?"

"I don't know what you mean, sir. I'm not soft at all."

"The hell you aren't. That's one lie I can feel through," Ron chuckled, "Bet those melons are soft."

"Sir?"

"Tits, girl." Ron grimaced, "I've seen a lot of tits, and you've got a nice pair on you. Remind me of my late wife, God rest her delicious soul," Ron laughed loudly, "Tits for days. She had big ones with sharp nipples. I bet your nipples are just as pointed, pink perhaps?"

Uncomfortable with his conversation, she shifted away. But Ron moved up to cop a feel, and Ornella reared back into the seat. His fingers danced along the sides of her tank top, tempting to go inside.

"Umm, sir. This-"

"Yes, you are very soft. Just like my wife."

"Again, sir. I am sorry about your wife, but...." Ornella caught herself, but it was too late.

A grimace spread on Ron's rugged face,

"But what girl? Can't you help a man reminisce on the past? My wife is dead, and she's not coming back. When that house burned down, it took everything I own."

Ornella looked toward him in confusion, "I thought it was a storm, sir?"

"Storm, oh, yes. The fire came after it burned the whole goddamn village. I was the only survivor. I tried to save em, but I'm no hero."

"You saved me, sir. And I will forever be grateful, but...." Ornella paused and looked down as his fingers traced her side boob.

"But what? Hell, I've been a good man."

"I never said you were anything other, sir. I apologize."

"You ain't the first one, ya know. I've picked up hitchhiking girls like you before. And do you know what those girls did?"

"No, sir?"

"They stole my money, the dirty cunts. Took all my bills, left me with nothing but coins to my name." Ron rambled, "I bet you are just like that, aren't you? Asking for a ride just to take what little money I've got."

"No. No, sir. I wouldn't take from you. I appreciate everything."

"You don't appreciate shit. Drawing up from my touch like I am a goddamn murderer."

"I am sorry, I just...."

"Not to mention, I paid for a bunch of drinks, and you're wasting it."

Reducing her rudeness, Ornella gulped the remaining swig and reached for another beer. Even though her once flat belly was full of air from the fizzy drink, she gulped it down as Ron watched, caressing her thighs.

"That's a good girl. You're a very good girl, not like those other whores, now are ya?"

"No sir," Ornella shook her head, "I am a good girl."

-

-

It could have been the night air, along with the rocking of the car zooming down the road, or perhaps it was Ron's rough caresses that pacified Ornella to sleep. No dreams roamed in her mind, only deep relaxation from her once-tiring independent travels.

The sunlight beamed through her lids, awakening her from the heavy slumber and light buzz. Her head was lying on the jammed door, and she felt pressure on her butt.

"Hmm, Sir?" It had to be Ron's thick palm cupping her taut ass cheeks. Ignoring her, he roamed around her Jean-covered ass and mumbled out his likings, "Such a tight little body you have, girl. I want you naked."

Gathering her thoughts and shifting around, Ornella glanced at him with confusion, "Excuse me?"

"Let me help you," Ron smiled wide, hooking his finger in her belt loop to tug at the band of her shorts.

"Sir. Sir, please. I know I remind you of your wife. But.."

"Oh, fuck that cheating whore. This has nothing to do with her. You knew this was coming, girl. Don't act surprised."

"Sir?"

"You owe me for this ride, and you know that. Pretty faces don't fill up my car with gas," Ron chuckled at his quip and added, "Would be nice if they did. I'd sell you to the first petrol station I saw."

The button of her shorts unhooked, divulging light purple material.

"Come on, now. Don't be timid. You know you're a beauty. Shouldn't go around hiding the good stuff." Ron smiled, "Should have worn a dress."

"But..." Ornella reared her body back, keeping her ass on the seat. Misery filled her expression as he parted her thighs with his meaty paws. His soft touch was gone, replaced by a roughness Ornella had never experienced.

"Sir. Please, you shouldn't touch me when I am asleep."

"Well, it's a good thing you're wide awake," Ron's breathy tone let on that he would have his way with her, "You don't have an inch of fat on these bones. Just healthy curves. Hmm."

A deep panic arose inside her, and Ornella wiggled her legs, feeling a cringe that traveled up her arms. "Sir, please don't touch me. I..."

It was too late. Ron was caressing the parts he could see and had even slipped around her exposed pockets to poke around her crotch. Ron gathered her legs over him, getting a rub of her long-toned shanks. Each inch he explored brought more sickness to Ornellas' stomach. Maybe, he would only touch since his reputation as a feminist ally wouldn't allow him to do anything more, she reasoned.

Ron gave a heavy breath as his fingers skimmed her jean-covered crotch.

The touch, however guarded, caused heat to rise on her cheeks, and she jerked her torso, "Sir!"

Ron flinched, and he grabbed her leg to pull her back, "The hell is wrong with you, woman?"

"You can't, uh," Ornella stiffened her spine and straightened her long legs. She lowered her long lashes before speaking again in a small voice, "No one has ever touched me there."

"Aye, you ain't a fucking virgin. You're a whore."

"Sir? Why would you call me that?"

"It's what you are. A harlot. A prostitute. a tramp, whatever the hell they're calling you bitches these days. I can't keep up. Take these shorts off. Let me see what I've paid for."

Widening her eyes, Ornella shook her head, "No. Sir, I am not that."

"You wake up with lies, I see. You're dressed like a whore. I know you were walking up and down the street looking for a real man, won't ya?" Ron's giant smile revealed a yellowish tone and made Ornella cringe.

"I was walking, yes, but-"

"But nothing." Ron chuckled, "You've found a real man, little lady. I know how to please a whore just like a regular woman. I'll have you cumming all over my cock. You might even fall in love with me when I am done with you."

"Sir. I am not a sex worker. I'm just a-"

"Hmm. You like to role-play, huh? Pretend to be sweet and innocent," Ron mocked, gliding his hands in her hair.

His thumb seared into the side of her face, and Ornella shook her hair to remove his hold.

"I'll play your little games." Ron chuckled before softening his voice to a mocking coo, a weak attempt to peel off her purity, "Sweet little virgin girl, take these shorts off. Let me see that fresh cunt."

"Sir. I... I have never shown anyone my flower."

"Aw, tender blossom, eh? Have you ever seen a cock before, little lady?" Ron asked, his lips wet with anticipation.

Ornella shook her head, backing away from his softer than expected touch on her cheek.

"No, sir. You've got the wrong message. I was only walking home. But you passed my house and...."

As her brain scrambled to process her unfortunate decision to get into this stranger's car, Ron took his liberties with parts of her body that she had never thought to touch. Maybe the man was drunk out of his mind and took her for another.

"Sir. Please. I promise you. Remember? I am a good girl."

"A good girl, huh?" His eyes widened in amusement. "Bet you want to see my cock, don't you?"

Ron backed up and rummaged into his thick sweatpants. Taking out his thick cock, moist with sweat, he jerked around his shaft.

"No. No. No," Ornella wrapped her eyes in her hands, "Sir, please. Put your pecker away."

"There you go, all 5 inches of it. Can't see it all since it's early, but I promise you, young whore, once I get inside that cat, you'll think I was a mandingo."

"Sir, just, please. Put it away."

Grabbing her hands, Ron removed her shield and frowned, "Look here, I've had enough of your little games."

Turning toward the closed window, Ornella scanned the outside, noticing only the greenery dotted with dew. Ron had parked in the middle of nowhere with no houses or depleted shacks. Ornella could hear his heavy breaths and his other hand still felt around the soft flesh of her covered breasts.

Growing upset, she huffed and turned to give him an intense glare, "Put it away, sir!"

"Oh, hush, girl. Look at it," Ron insisted, dabbing at the moisture leaking from his mushroom tip.

"I know you want it. You've got me ready with those perky tits sticking out of your shirt. Yeah," Ron grinned and fastened his pace, "You've been teasing me all goddamn night. You were shaking them in my face."

"I did no such thing, sir," Ornella whispered, placing her arms over her chest.

"Ah, hmm, yeah, you're a pretty little thing," Ron grunted.

Ornella fixed her eyes on his masturbation. She couldn't deny how his thick hand wrapped around his cock. It was enticing but odd since she had never witnessed a sexual act.

"Take your tits out of the tank top," Ron ordered gruffly, licking his lips, "Let me see those pretty tits."

With her arm holding both down, Ornella timidly bit her lip, "I can't show you my breasts, sir."

"Yes, you can." Ron pulled her arm away and gazed at the two perfect tits, "Look at your little nipples. They are hard as pebbles."

Ornella shook her head, but when she looked down, she noticed her buds were ripe and poking from her top.

"Go on now, girl. Take them out. I don't want to get loud with you. I'm already in the mood. I usually don't get this hard. My cock is throbbing."

With no way out and not wanting to make him furious, she obeyed. Reluctantly drawing down her top, Ornella removed both breasts, soft and round, to hang over her tank top.

He was the first to see her bare breasts, and a part of her hoped he enjoyed them. The morning sun illuminated her bright beige areolas, bringing a curved smile to Ron's face.

"So damn pretty."

Ornella couldn't help but smile, "Um, thank you, sir."

"Play with them," he grunted, still holding his cock tight, "Tweak those nipples."

Ornella had never toyed with her breasts, and she glanced toward Ron in embarrassment. He kept his eyes settled on her round tits, shifting his cock up and down with wrath.

"Come on, damnit. Rub em. Roll them around your hands."

With the puzzling notion, Ornella swiped her fingers around her breast. She had never paid much attention to them and was unsure what route to take. With the pads of her fingers, she traced along her hills.

"That's it, little lady. Pinch. Uh, pinch those nipples, girl. Put on a show for me, will ya? I'm going to bust a nut all over that left one fore long."

Using her thumb and index finger, Ornella twirled around her hardened bud. She gripped them in a gentle pinch and looked toward him for approval.

Ron gave an encouraging nod as he jerked his cock faster from the sight.

The soft yet rigid texture on her fingertips became a unique delight. Her hands felt cool against her hot chest as she rotated around each jutting bud.

"Like this, sir?" Ornella asked, peeking toward Ron's dark stare. He seemed momentarily unamused by her satisfaction. His hand was moving so quickly that she found herself almost in a trance, awaiting what would come next.

"Oh, I know you want this cock. Hmm, keep playing with those nipples like I told you."

Ornella applied more pressure pinching her buds until they grew in size. The pleasure soon melted her apprehension, and she fell into the odd motion. Her pouty bottom lip dipped, and she closed her eyes, relishing this newfound sensation. Finding the pinch delightful, she tugged more on her buds, shifting her pert breasts around and giving a low sigh of satisfaction.

"Ahh, fuck, here she comes," Ron gave a loud howl.

Ornella flinched, opening her eyes to notice a white substance dotting his sweats. His cock soon shriveled in his open palm. A glossy sheen lingered on his tip. The ordeal puzzled Ornella, but she continued examining her nipples for fear he would become upset.

"Hmm, ugh. Damnit," Ron grunted, leaning his head to the side to watch her awkward performance, "That was a haggard bust. I blame you. You want to fake like you don't know how to play with your own damn tits."

Ornella continued to twirl her fingers around her solid nipples in hopes of pleasing the exhausted man.

"That's not how you do it, girl."

Letting go of his thick member, he reached over with slimy fingers and gave her right bud a sharp pinch. The prompt and foreign pain caused her to shutter and whine, "Ow! Stop. It hurts."

"It's supposed to hurt. Stop all that moving."

"No, mhmm, It's... I don't like this. Please stop," Ornella pleaded, taking in the lust glimmering in his eyes.

Ron pulled on her nipple, letting his fingers toy around her small areolas. The sight of her timid expression caused his cock to twitch with thoughts of coming back to life.

Each caress was torture to Ornella. Especially now that she had stopped her battle and his severe pressure on her nipples started to take on euphoria. What was happening? Being molested wasn't what she wished for herself, but her body betrayed that notion.